by Pake Daigen Hall (in English below) When I Am Among the Trees by Mary Oliver When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily. I am so distant from the hope of myself, in which I have goodness, and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often. Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, “Stay awhile.” The light flows from their branches. And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say, “and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.” Svalornas sangha har engagerat sig i att bevara gammelskog genom Insamlingsstiftelsen Naturarvet. Det tredje fundamentet i vår praktik - taking action, innebär att agera på det som väcks ur not-knowing och bearing witness. Gammelskogen är hotad idag, då skogsbolagen hugger ner allt mer av våra riktiga skogar, och istället skapar framför allt granplanteringar, eller granåker. Orörd skog, eller skog som fått stå relativt orörd är väldigt viktig för vår biologiska mångfald. All skog som inte huggs ner bidrar också till kolinlagring. Sir David Attenbourough menar att bevarande av biologisk mångfald (och att sluta hugga ner orörd skog) i sig också är vår viktigaste metod för att rädda klimatet. Naturarvet samlar in pengar och köper loss gammelskog i Sverige. Sanghan har samlat in pengar till ett projekt i Halland, Ekås ek-bokskog (fotot ovan är från Naturarvets sida och just den skogen). Du kan läsa mer om Naturarvet och Ekås ek-bokskog här! Tillsammans har vi i sanghan så här långt lyckats samla ihop pengar till 13 skogsrutor i Ekås ek-bokskog. Insamlingen fortsätter och vill du ge till just sanghans skog, så kan du swisha till 0735270292 och märka Gammelskog. Vi köper in ny skog så fort vi fått in pengar till en ny skogsruta (en ruta kostar 1250 kr). Skogen är också en plats för glädje, vila, återhämtning och inspiration. Mary Olivers dikt fångar något om känslan av att vara i trädens sällskap. Låt oss göra vad vi kan för att också framtida generationer ska få umgås med träden och vandra och meditera i riktiga skogar! Together we save the old forests by Pake Daigen Hall When I Am Among the Trees by Mary Oliver When I am among the trees, especially the willows and the honey locust, equally the beech, the oaks and the pines, they give off such hints of gladness. I would almost say that they save me, and daily. I am so distant from the hope of myself, in which I have goodness, and discernment, and never hurry through the world but walk slowly, and bow often. Around me the trees stir in their leaves and call out, “Stay awhile.” The light flows from their branches. And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say, “and you too have come into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled with light, and to shine.” The Svalornas sangha has become involved in preserving old-growth forest through the Natural Heritage Foundation. The third foundation in our practice - taking action, means acting on what is awakened from not-knowing and bearing witness. The old growth forest is under threat today, as the forest companies cut down more and more of our real forests, and instead create above all spruce plantations, or spruce fields. Pristine forest, or forest that has been left relatively untouched, is very important for our biological diversity. All forest that is not cut down also contributes to carbon storage. Sir David Attenbourough believes that conservation of biological diversity (and stopping the cutting down of virgin forest) in itself is also our most important method of saving the climate. Naturarvet collects money and buys old-growth forests in Sweden. Sanghan has collected money for a project in Halland, Ekås ek-bokskog (Ekås oak-beech forest) (the photo above is from Naturarvet site and that particular forest). You can read more about Naturarvet and Ekås ek-boksskog here! Together, we in the sangha have so far managed to collect money for 13 forest plots in Ekå's oak-beech forest. The collection continues and if you want to give to the sangha's forest in particular, you can Swish 0735270292 and tag Gammelskog. We buy new forest as soon as we receive money for a new forest square (a square costs SEK 1250). The forest is also a place of joy, rest, recovery and inspiration. Mary Oliver's poem captures something about the feeling of being in the company of trees. Let's do what we can so that future generations will also get to hang out with the trees and walk and meditate in real forests! #gammelskog #naturarvet #bevaraskogen #skyddaskogen #biologiskmångfald #engageradbuddhism #ekåsekbokskog #zenpeacemakers #takingaction #svalornassangha #maryoliver

av Rebecka Arman (in English below) Ickevåldskommunikation är en av de praktiker som några av oss inom Svalornas sangha övar. Den metod vi övar förkortas ofta till NVC som står för Non Violent Communication, Jag själv är en ivrig student inom metoden. Vad spelar skicklig kommunikation för roll för en buddhist? Jo, jag vill påstå att en stor del av vårt lidande uppkommer i relationer och kommunikation med andra, genom konflikter, osämja, brist på kontakt, förståelse och rena missförstånd. NVC består av fyra tydliga delar: 1) Kommunicera och lyssna på sina egna och andras observationer av något som hänt. 2) Beskriva känslorna som väcks. 3) Berätta att känslorna orsakas av värderingar, preferenser eller behov som de berörda har. 4) Att formulera specifika och genomförbara önskningar för att tillgodose och möta preferenserna eller behoven, för alla inblandade. Om jag på detta sätt kan bidra till att minska mitt eget och andras lidande bara genom att välja andra ord och ordföljd, eller ställa andra frågor, då ser jag det som en buddhistisk praktik. Den viktigaste grunden i NVC är nämligen att möta sig själv och andra utan att värdera att vi är dåliga eller gör fel. När jag förklarar NVC och säger detta, brukar många, inklusive jag själv, haja till. Det liknar i mina ögon det som buddha ska ha sagt vid tidpunkten för sin upplysning: "Under över alla under, vi är alla hela och perfekta." Det är så radikalt så det gör ont. Hur kan det vara sant, när så många av oss skapar så mycket lidande för andra? Hur kan det inte vara fel och betyda att vi är dåliga? Enligt NVC så finns det en annan icke-dömande förklaring: alla varelser har preferenser, värderingar och behov. Inom buddhismen kallas det nog för begär, okunskap och aversion (sinnesgifterna). Både meditation och NVC syftar till att genomskåda, förstå, och "släppa" dessa sinnesgifter. Inom zen görs det genom att försöka lösgöra sig från jagets betingade kraft och inom NVC handlar det istället om att hitta sätt att lyssna på sinnesgifterna. Med NVC går det att vara kreativ i att skapa harmoni med andras begär/aversioner/okunskap, så att det inte leder till lidande utan tvärtom, till medkänsla och lycka. Jag har märkt att NVC-kommunikation är underbart behaglig och relativt lätt i de sammanhang när jag har lugna och förtroliga samtal, där jag och andra oss tillräckligt trygga för att känna efter och formulera oss öppet och sårbart. Däremot är det ohyggligt svårt att praktisera när det behövs som mest, det vill säga när jag själv eller andra är upprörda och är översköljda av stressreaktioner (fight, flight, freeze, fix, osv). Det är just då som det automatiska mönstren och "Jaget" styr, det vill säga behovet att skydda mig från det jag tror är omvärlden och som jag tror är farligt. De gånger jag ändå lyckas stanna upp och lita på, eller våga testa NVC istället, så har det gjort stor skillnad i att skapa kontakt med andra mer fredliga, medkännande delar av mig själv och andra. Förutom konflikthantering så är NVC ett språk, teknik och förhållningssätt som jag använder för att lyssna på mig själv för att förstå mig själv bättre. Ibland räcker det långt att bara förstå någon eller bli förstådd av mig själv. Svalornas sangha har under flera år ordnat fysiska återkommande träffar som sedan gick över i retreats och online-träffar för att öva NVC. Välkomna! Non Violent Communication - a Buddhist practice? by Rebecka Arman Nonviolent communication is one of the practices that some of us in the Sangha practice. The method we practice is often abbreviated to NVC, which stands for Nonviolent Communication. I myself am a keen student of the method. What role does skillful communication play in a Buddhist? Well, I want to say that a large part of our suffering arises in relationships and communication with others, through conflicts, disagreements, lack of contact, understanding and pure misunderstandings. NVC consists of four clear parts: 1) Communicate and listen to your own and others' observations of something that happened. 2) Describe the feelings evoked. 3) Tell that the feelings are caused by values, preferences or needs that those affected have. 4) To formulate specific and feasible desires to accommodate and meet the preferences or needs, of all involved. If in this way I can contribute to reducing my own and others' suffering just by choosing different words and order of words, or asking different questions, then I see it as a Buddhist practice. The most important foundation in NVC is namely to face oneself and others without valuing that we are bad or make mistakes. When I explain NVC and say this, many, including myself, tend to balk. It seems to me similar to what the Buddha is supposed to have said at the time of his enlightenment: "Wonder of all wonders, we are all whole and perfect." It's so radical it hurts. How can that be true, when so many of us create so much suffering for others? How can it not be wrong and mean we are bad? According to NVC, there is another non-judgmental explanation: all beings have preferences, values ​​and needs. In Buddhism it is probably called desire, ignorance and aversion (the poisons of the mind). Both meditation and NVC aim to see through, understand, and "release" these mind poisons. In Zen it is done by trying to detach oneself from the conditioned power of the self and in NVC it ​​is instead about finding ways to listen to the gifts of the senses. With NVC, it is possible to be creative in creating harmony with other people's desires/aversions/ignorance, so that it does not lead to suffering but, on the contrary, to compassion and happiness. I have found that NVC communication is wonderfully comfortable and relatively easy in those contexts when I have calm and confidential conversations, where I and others feel safe enough to feel and express ourselves openly and vulnerable. On the other hand, it is terribly difficult to practice when it is most needed, i.e. when myself or others are upset and overwhelmed by stress reactions (fight, flight, freeze, fix, etc.). It is precisely then that the automatic patterns and the "I" rule, i.e. the need to protect myself from what I think is the outside world and which I think is dangerous. The times I still manage to stop and trust, or dare to try NVC instead, it has made a big difference in connecting with other more peaceful, compassionate parts of myself and others. In addition to conflict management, NVC is a language, technique and approach that I use to listen to myself to understand myself better. Sometimes just understanding someone or being understood by myself goes a long way. For several years, the Svalornas sangha has arranged regular physical meetings, which then transitioned into retreats and online meetings to practice NVC. Welcome! #nvc #nonviolentcommunication #engageradbuddhism #rätttal #zenpeacemakers #svalornassangha

-by Pake Daigen Hall We can hear the world’s cry. Our way of life threatens many lifeforms on Earth, the extinction of different species goes faster than ever, we fill up the oceans with plastics and chemicals and fishing fleets are sweeping them empty of life, we are killing of the forests by industrial plantations and cutting them down way to early and not letting the trees grow old, our emissions continue to grow notwithstanding our knowledge, the science and our agreements - fueling the climate change. In the Zen Peacemaker tradition we are asked to practice with the Three Tenets; Not-Knowing, Bearing Witness and Taking Action. The world, we ourselves, our children, our ancestors, the birds in the sky, the fish in the sea, the trees and the mycelium, Mother Earth herself needs our practice. The task may be daunting, and seems impossible. It reminds me of a story from the Jataka Tales, where a fire starts in the forest and all the animals are running away from the fire and the smoke. All except one, all except this little bird, who instead flies to a lake and dips the wings and fills the beak with water. Then the bird flies back and forth between the lake and the fire, shaking its wings and spitting out the water from the beak on the fire. After some time some of the other animals tries to stop the little bird and asks why it continues, since the efforts seem pointless. The bird replies: Because I can. One way to let go into Not-Knowing is to do meditation on the cushion, at the Zendo. Another is to go to places that takes you out of your ordinary way of knowing. As the Zen Peacemakers have done in Auschwitz-Birkenau and other places. Often we choose places of suffering for many reasons, but it can also be done with places of joy and beauty. As the 2nd Tent says, Bearing Witness to the joy and suffering of the world. For many years now, even before I started to practice with the Zen Peacemakers, I have taken people out in nature to do meditation. In my former Zen tradition it was very Zendo orientated, and I wanted to bring the Zen practice out of the monastic setting. Even if we were lay practitioners mostly, it was molded after a monastic practice with all the bells, the striking of the Han, the bows, special robes and so on. To then also bring the formal Zen practice out among the trees and the birds roaming the sky and the grass under our feet to be One with Mother Earth felt like a very direct way to me. Now we do it in our Zen. Circles here in Sweden. The last time we met here at my home in the woods of Southern Sweden, I fell in love. After some formal meditation, Council Circle, cooking and eating together, we went for a meditation walk in the forest. When we had walked for some time in silence, sometimes slowly on a endless floor of damp moss that carried our feet, the little stream making turning water sounds and feeling the loneliness of the spill crow’s cry, we stopped. I asked everyone to really listen to one of their old relatives, the trees. To find a tree and to bear witness to this tree, to listen with their whole body-mind to this tree. And we all did in this part of the forest where old beech trees stood and held the world in their arms. We found a tree and hugged it, listened to it, felt it. For around 15 minutes or so we were Bearing Witness to this tree. We became One with these relatives of ours. The effect on the group was quite noticeable when we shared about the experience afterwards. Some talked about the longing to be out in nature more, some about the stunning silence in the woods, some the deep rest in the trees presence, and some about the cry of the tree for how Mother Earth is doing. We can also hear the world’s joy and suffering by bearing witness to the worlds beauty, like in the forests, like in meditating with the wild. And that too awakens our compassionate hearts. #bearingwitness #notknowing #skyddaskogen #zen #engagedbuddhism #zenpeacemakers #svalornassangha

-by Pake Daigen Hall We walked through a 60 year old forest of fir, on grounds that once has been pasture for cows. It was a well known forest, but we hadn’t walked in this exact area before. The winter had put a blanket of white snow on the ground, that made the trees stand out with brown and green. We walked this forest of fir because we had gotten the news that this area had been filed for felling of forest. It’s well known that forests have to gain some age to develop a greater biological diversity, and for a forest, 60 years are very young. The traces from the history of pastures were evident in the amount of high juniper bush that had died, once the firs grew high around them. And it looked at a quick glance like there were only a few of the more common kinds of moss where it was possible to see for the snow. We know from before that there grew some blueberries and lingonberries on the ground. But all in all, a forest that hadn’t had time to let life really settle in. All the firs even in size and height. Against the snow they all looked like rickety teenagers. And soon their time on earth may have come to an end. Then all of a sudden a giant fir rose before our eyes. It stood alongside some pine trees and two more well grown and older firs. We measured it’s circumference - 3,30 m. Way bigger than any of the 60 years old ones that dominated the forest. As soon as I sat down under it and leaned my back against the bark of the tree, I knew we had to try to protect it from being felled. This great fir does a Bodhisattva’s work just by standing there, just by being alive. It creates a wider range of biological diversity just by not being the same age as the other firs. More species of moss and lichens have a chance to take this fir up as their partner, or host. Birds finds shelter and food among it’s huge braches. Insects can make it home in dead branches and cracks in the bark. This fir also very effectively stores carbon dioxid and contributes to being a carbon sink for the area. The first 20-30 years of a clear cutting the area releases carbon dioxid into the atmosphere, even if you plant new trees. But an old fir like this one does it’s job wonderfully. And if we let it stay alive and upright, it doesn’t release it back out for a long time. So old firs in general do the work of a Peacemaker, the work of a Bodhisattva, by taking action and using it’s ingredients in life to heal this world. And this old Bodhisattva does it beautifully in this moment, in this particular corner of the world. The Thai Buddhist tradition has some monks that have been giving Buddhist ordination to trees in areas where forest companies are looking to cut everything down. In their Buddhist context it is well known and respected that it brings bad karma to hurt anyone in the Sangha of ordained monks. So an ordained tree can’t be cut down without karmic consequences. This has actually saved a lot of areas from clear cutting. Inspired by this practice we decided to give our old fir Bodhisattva a Peacemaker ordination and make it part of our Sangha. We adorned it in Tibetan Buddhist prayer flags, and did a meditation together. I also recited the Peacemaker Precepts to it. The fir just stood there in silence. A couple of weeks later we came back on a Day of Reflection. We did a sitting meditation together, and chanted The Three Refuges, Prajna Paramita Hrdaya, Kannongyo and the Bodhisattva vows. I gave a short talk about the peacemaker work this old tree does, and asked it to uphold the precepts. It stayed silent and still. After the ordination I reached out to the owner of the forest and asked him not to cut down our Sangha member. We talked for a long time about forests, biological diversity, rare birds and old trees. He promised so spare this old tree, and also asked us to let him know if we found any other nature conservation species or endangered species in his forests. So now this old Peacemaker and fir Bodhisattva stands there and will hopefully continue to do it’s work in the forest for a long, long time to come. #ordinationoftrees #skyddaskogen #biodiversity #bevaraskogen #engageradbuddhism #zenpeacemakers #svalornassangha

By Pake Daigen Hall (This text was published in the book "Pearls of Ash & Awe: 20 Years of Bearing Witness in Auschwitz with Bernie Glassman & Zen Peacemakers) The wheels of the train clank slowly along the poorly maintained railway lines. I stand there with my forehead pressed against the window and look out over the Polish landscape, with its stunted pines in sandy soil. Sometimes the motion rocks me gently, other times my head is thrown against the edge of the sleeping platform. My journey is happening in multiple dimensions. I am travelling in space, from Gothenburg to Oswiecim, the place in Poland which is better known as Auschwitz. I am journeying in time from the present to the past, from the past to the present. I am making an inner journey of body and mind. Together with over a hundred persons of different faiths and nationality I will be spending five days in Auschwitz I and Birkenau in a Bearing Witness retreat. In the Nazi death camp of Auschwitz, between 1940 and 1945, around 1.3 million people were murdered in a calculated and systematic way. We are here in the November chill to bear witness to what happened, to how we are part of what happened then and what is happening now. We are here to bear witness for those who died, those who survived, those who committed the murders and those who knew what was happening. To bear witness to our own involvement in what is happening today. To bear witness is to see clearly – both suffering and happiness – without any filter, without separation between ourselves and the world. To experience the world in its rawest rawness. After passing through the gate which has the words Arbeit Macht Frei (work makes you free) wrought into the ironwork above it, we go straight to the first gas chamber in the camp. The one which was preserved because it was used as an ammunitions dump just before the camp was liberated. We enter the small concrete bunker, lifting away the barrier which normally blocks off the gas chamber itself and we fill the room. There are a hundred of us in there today. It is a tight squeeze. The guide tells us that when the first people were gassed here, there were about seven or eight hundred of them. Then the metal door slams with a harsh clang. We look at one another. The pain from the past is very palpable. Then the lights suddenly go out. Someone yells out the pain and sorrow of the generations into the pitch darkness. And so we stand there in proximity to death. Unable to do anything but experience the pain, sorrow and fear which reverberate through time and space. We spend the days that follow in meditation on the selection platform of Auschwitz-Birkenau. We sit where the train stopped and soldiers and guards shoved men, women and children out of the cattle wagons onto the platform where they would be sorted and directed to go left or right. To slave labour or the gas chamber. We sit there though the rain, hail and cold and the occasional ray of sunshine on our faces. There are remembrance ceremonies and we read out the names of people who were murdered here. Sometimes we walk around the vast camp, guided by a Polish woman survivor who spent five months in the camp before being forced onto a death march towards Germany. On one occasion, we walk along Death Road, a long corridor lined with high barbed wire fences which starts at the selection platform and divides two parts of the camp. The road is muddy with the grey clay which sticks to everything at Auschwitz. We visit two large gas chambers. It was here that most of the new arrivals were forced to strip in a nearby grove of pines for want of a changing room. And then they were herded to their deaths. As I stand there I feel the pain and sorrow as a blow to the chest and I know that I have to come back by myself. A little later that day I am sitting on the ground under the pine trees. The air is heavy and the sky grey and I am close to tears. As I sit there on the ground, I start chanting the purification ceremony. Suddenly there is an opening in the leaden cloud cover and the sun warms the grove. I continue chanting and notice that I am not alone. Everywhere around me I see women and children taking off their clothes, their eyes wide with terror and their hands frozen. There are soldiers shouting harsh words and jabbing the hard butts of their rifles into soft flesh. And I am filled with compassion for them – the frozen terror of the children and women, the hate-filled numbed actions of the soldiers. I chant and they disappear into the forest around me. A crow is gazing at me from a branch and I get up and leave too. The next day as I meditate in one of the men’s barracks, I see myself as a thin prisoner. My clothes are thin and do little to keep out the bitter wind, we have just received our ration of bread and watery soup. Hunger gnaws at me and I know I have to have more food. My fifteen-year-old son is with me, weaker than me. He escaped the gas chamber at the initial but now he is at the end of his strength. I see myself take his bread and meet his gaze. His eyes register disbelief that this, the ultimate betrayal, can be happening. I look him in the eye as I slowly eat the bread. I am the starving prisoner. On the selection platform I am meditating as evening draws in and suddenly I become aware that I am wearing a uniform and have a gun in my hands. Some ragged children, newly arrived, are walking in front of me. I lash out at them, using my boots and my rifle by turns. The children in front of me continue on their way and I think about my own family. The wife and children who wait for me at the end of the day’s work. I am also a soldier in the SS. I came here to make a journey in time and space, in body and mind. I see that I am part of what happened. Those who died were me. The soldiers who murdered them were me. Those who knew about it were me. In Auschwitz I come face to face with pain and terror, but also love and caring and the pines which rise above the plain and the gaze of the crow, filled with curiosity. Auschwitz is beyond all words. There is no language, no word for this place and yet I have to say something. Perhaps this invocation from the Gate of Sweet Nectar will serve: Calling Out to Hungry Hearts Calling out to Hungry Hearts Everywhere through endless time You who wander, you who thirst I offer you this Bodhi Mind Calling all you hungry spirits Everywhere through endless time Calling all you hungry hearts All the lost and left behind Gather round and share this meal Your joy and sorrow I make it mine... #bearingwitness #auschwitz #zenpeacemakers #pearlsofashandawe